


Strange is You and Me

by nakadoo



Category: Wild Adapter
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakadoo/pseuds/nakadoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short little ficlets between Kubota and Tokito. Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tokito

Tokito never really questioned Kubota’s lifestyle; it didn’t really come off as strange to him. Sometimes Kubota would come home with his clothes stained with blood but Tokito never really thought that maybe that might be his own blood, always assumed it to be someone else’s blood because that’s the only thing that would make sense.

To put it shortly, Kubota Makoto is a strong man and definitely a force to be trifled with.

Tokito wasn’t scared of him. Admittedly their first meeting didn’t really work out well but in his defense he was confused, scared and lost. Anyone would lash out at a complete stranger; that was only natural.

In the long run, Tokito is glad that it was Kubota who picked him up on that fateful day. Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if it had been someone else; if Kasai-san had found him, would he still be alive? Would he have been questioned regarding [W.A.]? Most probably, and he most probably might have killed them all by accident if they aggrieved him too much.

Kubota was odd, but in a way that Tokito loved. Had it not been for his strangeness, they might not have even met and he might have even been committed to jail or worse, dead.

“You’re strange, Kubo-chan,” Tokito tells him offhandedly, crawling onto the apartment couch and right next to Kubota like a cat trying to get warm. “Kinda freaky sometimes, to be honest.”

Kubota’s eyebrows go up a fraction. “Oh?” A simple reply from the complicated man, the intonation of his one-worded query that of amusement and mild interest. “Thank you.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to reply to that,” Tokito laughs, leaning his head against Kubota’s shoulder as the other reads. “Does it ever bother you?”

Kubota pauses then plucks the cigarette away from his lips and blows a puff of smoke away from Tokito’s face. “What do you mean?”

Tokito rubbed his chin in though, looking for the right way to word his question. “Does it bother you that people think you’re strange?”

The cigarette is back where it belongs and Kubota returns to reading his book. “Why the sudden interest, Tokito?”

“You’re not normal,” Tokito replies. “But I think that’s what I like about you the best.”

Kubota smiles and drops his head, letting it lean against the top of Tokito’s. “If that’s how you feel, then I shouldn’t care about what other people think.”


	2. Kubota

He really is like a cat and maybe that’s why he’s so fond of him.

Kubota wasn’t really a pet person, though he has gone through many pets during his childhood years. He once had a turtle named Turtle and there was once a stray dog that followed him home that he named Inu. The many lizards that crawled the walls at night had names as well, but there were just too many to remember.

Not that he cared to remember; those pets didn’t really mean a lot to him.

Sometimes he wonders why the cat struck him most.

Maybe because it died?

Probably because it died.

He never really had parents, at least not technically, so he couldn’t really ask them what it was like to be dead. Even if they were on good terms, how was one supposed to answer such a cryptic question asked by a child?

What was it to be dead? What was it to be alive? What was the point in doing anything? Why did people try so hard, even if their efforts would ultimately lead to a tombstone with nothing but your name and a few poorly spoken words from people who think they knew you?

Humans were strange. To be attached to someone, anything really, was very strange indeed.

He wondered why girls craved eye contact when they made love. Then again, could it really be called love making when he didn’t feel anything at all? Even the supposed bodily needs didn’t really have an impact on him. A naked woman was nothing but a naked woman; he didn’t know who she was or what her story was so why should he care? Why should he care even if he knew her story? It’s not like they’d be seeing each other again in the long run.

Humans were odd. He much preferred the company of animals, but not by much.

Tokito is different; he’s kinda like an animal, a cute little cat that needs a home but like a tiger as well, ready to kill it’s prey if it has to. He’s human but different from anyone he’s ever met. He’s too honest, painfully honest, but when do you ever get to meet someone like that?

He’s precious.

Sometimes he can’t even remember what it was like, coming home to an empty apartment and a quiet bedroom. He always thought that he preferred it that way, alone in his own world where no one understood him.

Tokito isn’t just another person. He feels like he’s found a part of him that’s been missing all his life.

He’s scared to feel that way, to have someone so precious that to lose them would be agony, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d rather go through the seven paths of hell than live a day without ever meeting Tokito.

“Kubo-chan, the ashes are falling.”

“Huh? Oh. Are they?” He pulls the cigarette away from his lips, its three minutes over, and stubs it in the ashtray. He reaches for another stick and belatedly realizes that was his last one.

“Do ya wanna go out for dinner today?” Tokito asks, looking up at him from his spot on the floor. “We ran outta groceries so we can’t really make dinner.”

“Hm. Yeah. How do you feel about ramen tonight?”

Tokito nods. “Yeah, ramen sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeping silently for these two boys


	3. Tokito

Kubota slept in a weird way. He didn’t toss or turn or sleep talk or anything. In fact, he didn’t really mov much. Tokito would describe it as watching the dead; he slept on his back, his hands neatly folded atop of his stomach and a serene look on his usually carefree face. He looked peaceful and slept just as peacefully, but there are times when Tokito has the urge to press his ear against his chest, just to make sure his heart was still beating and alive.

Tokito noticed that Kubota was a rather light sleeper; even just the quietest of sounds would make him stir, and Tokito has tried his best to keep as quiet as he can in the rare occurrences that Kubota slept before he did.

As light a sleeper as he is, Kubota never wakes up when Tokito sleeps beside him. No matter how much Tokito squirmed or snored or sleep talked, Kubota would never wake up. Not unless Tokito wakes up in a cold sweat, plagued by dreams he can’t even remember.

There are times when Tokito feels guilty; he’s not a very good sleeping partner. He is the exact opposite of Kubuta, tossing and turning and kicking and punching, he can’t really help how he sleeps. Sometimes he wonders, when Kubota has particularly dark rings under his eyes, if that was his fault. Despite the countless times he’s offered to sleep on the couch instead, Kubota always refuses him.

(Deep down inside, he’s glad with that).

“Tokito, are you asleep?” Kubota whispers, staring blankly at the ceiling above him.

Tokito shakes his head, turning on his side to face his friend. “Not really, no. I can’t sleep.”

Kubota wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him a little closer under the sheets. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, not really,” Tokito replies, letting his own arms wrap around Kubota. “Just thinking.”

“Don’t think too much,” Kubota replies. “You might hurt yourself.”

“Shut up, Kubo-chan.”


	4. Kubota

Though he and most of their friends would describe Tokito as a cat, Tokito was actually rather ungraceful as compared to one. He was loud and noisy and over enthusiastic, always chattering excitedly about one thing or another. Kubota never minded it though, it kind of gave the apartment more life like that.

Unlike a cat who slept peacefully at night (or not at all), Tokito tossed and turned and snored rather loudly. Sometimes Kubota would get a kick to the knee or a slap to the face, generally getting himself hurt at night. He didn’t mind.

Tokito is actually sensitive, though most people wouldn’t say that about him, he is. He doesn’t like it when he accidentally hurts anyone, he doesn’t like it when he accidentally scares animals or little children when he shouts. He wishes that he could be different, or rather, that he could be normal, but the fact that his hand is in the shape that it currently is, he can’t really do anything about it just yet.

Kubota is determined to find out more about [W.A.], if it means that it will help Tokito somehow.

He’s a light sleeper, that much is true. He’s been that way for as long as he could remember. At first he thought that it might have been insomnia or something of the likes, but no, he just can’t sleep if it’s too noisy or if it’s too bright. Back before he met Tokito, he didn’t really get that much sleep.

Tokito to him was like a teddy bear or, dare he even say it, a security blanket that helped him get through the night. It was not as if he was scared of anything, of course not, he just felt at ease with Tokito’s body weight against him, his body heat pressed against his side and keeping him warm. He slept better with him by his side, despite how importunate he can be when he sleeps.

Tokito jolts awake, breathing heavily after a dream he’d rather not remember. His hand aches and his head throbs and he takes in a sharp breath of air.

“Are you alright, Tokito?” Kubota asks quietly after Tokito catches his breath.

“Nn. Just a dream,” Tokito replies just as silently. “Didn’t like it.”

Tokito feels a hand wrap around his gloved one and he cannot help it when he jerks away. “D-don’t!”

“It’s alright, Tokito,” Kubota insists quietly as he sits up in the dark. “Hold my hand.”

Tokito relents, letting his hand rest in Kubota’s. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> I caved. Wild Adapter is taking over my life.


End file.
